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Watching my ass: at play in the fields of the ghost of Billy the Kid


Historic 12th Street in Carrizozo is well protected. Not a single human about on a Saturday but every way one turns there’s a watcher. 

From rooftops, alcoves and walls: one gets the eerie sense of being seen. Of being in the presence of an intelligence. 

 Maybe the combination of art and ancient (more than a hundred year old) buildings 

Maybe the New Mexico overarching blue has blown my mind. 

A high proportion of the watching eyes are the Painted Burros of Southeast New Mexico


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